A long time ago, in an Archive far far away, I was up at Manning Clarke House, here in Canberra, to receive an Award from the Centre for Australian Cultural Studies. It was during the time of Imperial Rule and the Archive was governed by the then, now no more, Australian Film Commission.

The Award, in 2003, was a national recognition for a contribution to Australian Culture with a video series called Australia’s Silent Cinema. No one from the AFC attended. However, I had taken several staff from the Archive’s film and sound technical ‘backstage’ professions to the event. I acknowledged that the video series would not have been possible without, not only their expertise for the production of the series, but also their enthusiasm and loyalty over the years it took to compile and create the videos. After the ceremony was over, and while everyone was chatting and enjoying a Cuppa, a group of older folk came up to me and told me how wonderful it was to have acknowledged the ‘backroom’ staff, as they called them. These folk, who were just the sort of people you would find regularly at a cultural event, had been puzzled by the appearance of the other archivists. They said it was a real surprise to find out what they had done, what talents and expertise they had. They thought at first that the group had just wandered in off the street, through the hedges, for a free Cuppa and bickie; especially as they did not look like who one imagines such brilliant, competent professionals to be. I was not sure if it was the casual dress, the tatty jeans, or the general swagger of indifference to formal gatherings that my esteemed colleagues exuded; but I assured the inquisitive folk that this was indeed a bunch of National Heritage Rescuers, without whom, the Award that day could not have been won.